


"Don't look at me like that."

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Don't Post To Another Site, M/M, Mycroft has a sweet tooth, Mystrade Monday, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Mycroft plies his wiles to get what he wants.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	"Don't look at me like that."

Mycroft glanced sideways at his husband sitting on the sofa next to him. He turned his eyes back to his laptop and tried to focus on the report in front of him.

Greg swiped the screen on his Kindle.

Mycroft kept his gaze on his screen.

“Gregory?”

“Nope.”

Mycroft looked over at Greg, slightly surprised. “What do you mean, ‘nope’? You didn’t even hear the question?”

“I didn’t need to. The answer is, no.” Greg didn’t look up from his reading.

Mycroft huffed. “That’s ridiculous. I could have a perfectly simple request.”

“Such as?” Still Greg refused to look up.

“Well,” Mycroft countered. “Such as, would you pick up milk on your way home tomorrow? Or, would you be so kind as to pass the tissues?”

Greg finally looked up and met Mycroft’s intense gaze. “And is what you were going to ask, a simple request?”

“I think so,” Mycroft replied.

Greg took a long look at Mycroft. “Yeah, I think not.”

“Gregory?” Mycroft set his laptop aside and twisted his body towards Greg.

“No, no, no.” Greg tried to sound firm.

“Gregory?” Mycroft’s eyes were wide and he had his most innocent expression going. He raised his thumb to his mouth and nibbled at the edge. “Darling?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Mycroft blinked at Greg, baffled.

“Like that.” Greg drew a circle in the air around Mycroft’s face. “All adorable and pouty,” he muttered.

Mycroft pulled back. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Greg shook his head and returned to his Kindle, though his eyes were closed.

“Gregory.” Mycroft reached out and stroked Greg’s arm. “Please?”

Greg tipped his head back against the back of the sofa and groaned, “Fine, fine. You win.” He set down his kindle and stood up.

Mycroft smiled broadly.

Greg pointed at him and shook his finger. “You’re a menace.” He turned to leave the room, grumbling about husbands with a sweet tooth.

“Extra cream, please,” Mycroft called after Greg.

“I don’t want to hear a word about the 3 lbs you’ve gained when the holidays are over,” Greg called back.

“You won’t,” Mycroft promised.

“Or how I should’ve stopped you,” Greg scolded when he returned with the sticky toffee pudding. He handed Mycroft a plate with a hefty dollop of whipped cream to go with the cake and toffee sauce.

“Never,” Mycroft murmured as he took a large forkful of dessert. He hummed with pleasure.

Greg smiled indulgently as Mycroft closed his eyes and savored the sweetness.


End file.
